


Lost and Found

by FluffyUnicorn666



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Memory Loss, Not Canon Compliant, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyUnicorn666/pseuds/FluffyUnicorn666
Summary: You meet Muriel for the first time when you find him injured in the woods but there's something he's hiding from you.This isn't actually your first time meeting him. The curse had taken away your memories but it certainly hadn't taken his.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/You
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes and I'd totally appreciate any constructive criticism. The smut is in Chapter 2. Enjoy ;)

You didn’t know what you’d expected from following a wolf deep into the woods but coming across a man hunched over and covered in blood was near the end of your list.

“You have to let me help you,” you protest.

You can’t make out the extent of the damage but the amount of blood - covering his skin and coating the air with a copper smell - tells you enough. 

“I’m fine,” he refuses - voice croaky.

“You’re going to bleed out, please let me help you.”

You swoop down and grab his wrist to drag him to his feet but he pulls away.

“Please,” you repeat.

Unfaltering, you stare into the green of his eyes. His eyebrows furrow as he matches your stare. You can’t understand why he’s so adamant on refusing your help.

“Look, I can’t just leave you, I-“

He interrupts, “well you should.”

His expression changes to something you can’t quite decipher but what you can see is that his skin is growing alarmingly pale.

You grasp his wrist and you don’t let him pull away this time. In his worsening condition, he can hardly put up a fight. Somehow, you touching him seems to pain him even more than his wounds.

“Let me take care of you. You need my help.”

He makes no reply and you take that as an opportunity to haul him to his feet and wrap an arm around his waist for stability. In the panic of it all, you had failed to notice just how large and heavy this man was; it took most of your strength to keep him upright.

He explained, “I don’t live too far away.”

Nodding, you let him lead. Blood begins to coat your hand and your clothes that are pressed against his side. His breathing grows ragged while you both stagger forwards. You were right to persist in helping him, you’re not sure if he would have made it otherwise. Although, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold him up for. All of your senses narrow as you focus your entire attention on striding forwards. Eventually, a clearing appears and you can make out a small wooden hut in the distance.

You push forwards and kick open the door.

Once you’re inside, he peels your arm off himself and drops down into a chair. He clutches his abdomen and focuses on catching his breath.

He manages to say, “thank you for your help, you can go now.”

His eyes refuse to meet yours as he removes his threadbare cloak.

“No, you can’t possibly tend to this yourself. Look, I’m apprenticing as a magician, I can help you.”

People often have some reaction to you being a magician - surprise, fear, intrigue – but this man has no reaction.

After a moment of silence, you persist, “it’ll only take me a second.”

Kneeling down by his chair, you lay your hands on his abdomen. He tenses but he doesn’t move away. You close your eyes and you feel your magic conjuring to your fingertips. The wounds are even worse than you’d thought. Claw marks have been gouged deep into his skin. You can feel the pain pulsating and twisting deep within him. You’d never encountered such a severe wound before and it's taking all your energy to seal his skin back together. Sweat breaks out over your skin as his skin stitches together without even leaving a scar.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

That’s odd. You don’t remember telling him your name.

Before you can say anything, you’re hit by a wave of vertigo. Carrying him here and using your magic had completely drained you. The room start to spin violently and you find yourself tipping over until your head hits the floor and darkness fills your vision.

~~~

Fire crackles. Fur blankets rub against your skin. This isn’t your bed.

There’s a man sitting cross-legged in the corner - whittling a piece of wood. You try to remember how you got here. There was a wolf. She seemed concerned and you’d followed her into the woods and then… And then… You can’t recall what had happened and how you’d ended up here.

Despite the man’s large stature, he doesn’t frighten you. You’re sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why you’re waking up in his bed.

“Excuse me,” you call sheepishly.

He jumps when he hears you speak – almost dropping the knife in his hands.

You continue, “sorry… what am I doing here?”

He opens his mouth a few times but it takes him a while to speak, “I- erm- Inanna – my wolf – she found you in the woods. I- I don’t know what had happened to you but you were exhausted so I brought you back here and you fell asleep.”

Frowning, you get out of bed. That doesn’t make any sense.

You step closer, “no, I remember _I_ was following Inanna into the woods. She came to find me for some reason…”

You trail off as you try desperately to recall what happened. It hurts to dig into your memories, but you don’t give up – rubbing your temples to relieve some of the pain.

“What happened?” You ask sternly.

He takes a moment to respond, “I told you what happened.”

Concern begins to gnaw at you. There’s a weird block on your memories that even your magic can’t reach.

“What really happened?” You repeat.

Expressionless, he stands up and places his whitling on the table.

“Yes, you followed Inanna into the woods. I was injured and she brought you to me. You healed my wounds and it must have taken it out of you because you passed out.”

“Why can’t I remember?”

“I don’t know.”

You can’t understand this guy’s sheer reluctance to tell you the truth about anything.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.”

You meet his eyes. He tries to read you – hoping to find a way out of this - but your gaze is determined and unfaltering.

“It’s a curse,” he finally explains. “You can never remember me.”

“A curse? Why would anyone do that?”

He turns away from you – feigning looking out the window.

“Do we really have to do this? I would really appreciate it if you just left.”

You step towards him.

“Please.”

He speaks sadly, “my name’s Muriel.”

“Muriel,” you say out loud; it feels oddly familiar on your tongue.

“I used to be Lucio’s gladiator. And you used to be one of his servants.”

You were Lucio’s servant? That would explain your missing memories.

Sharp fragments spark in your mind. Carrying a jug of water down the palace corridors. Shopping for Lucio’s favourite foods at the market. Stumbling upon a gladiator quivering beneath the stairs of the coliseum.

It was all too much. Your head throbs and you feel your weight give out from under you. You manage to catch yourself on the table. Muriel spins round at the noise - arms latching onto you as he guides you to sit down in a chair.

“I shouldn’t have told you, I’m sorry.”

The memories don’t stop. You came to comfort the gladiator, you tended to a large wound on his rib cage, much like you did yesterday. He was even more frightened of you then. But days passed of you making visits and he began to trust you. Nothing happened between you but the connection was ever present - neither of you wanting to admit it in fear of misreading the other. Lucio however had no doubt and no fear once he’d heard the rumours. He caught you with your hand on Muriel’s thigh and fired you instantly. He was scared you would turn his prized gladiator soft, he was scared you’d make him realise he was worth more than a life of bloodshed. To emphasise Muriel’s entrapment, Lucio had the curse placed on him.

Pain courses through you. It’s not a physical pain. A flurry of emotions are stabbing at your skin. You can’t believe Lucio could do that. You can’t believe Muriel has been carrying this with him for so long while you started a new life free of any memories.

Tears well in your eyes. You place your hand on his chest where the scar resides from the first time you tended to him.

“Muriel,” you repeat his name - knowing why the sound fits so well in your mouth.

Looking into his creased eyes, it all makes sense now, why he was so reluctant to let you help him, he must have been going through all kinds of pain. 

So much time has elapsed. His scars have faded and his long hair has been shorn off. You reach forwards and card your fingers through it.

“I like the hair,” you try to lighten the mood.

The pain doesn’t disappear from his eyes. He pulls away. Your feather-light touches feel so good but

“It would be easier if you just left.”

You hesitate, “I don’t want to forget you.”

“You will. If not now, it will eventually. You can’t fight it forever.”

“There has to be a way. Surely Asra will be able to lift the curse… And if he can’t, you just have to remind me every single day.”

You rise and reach out for his hand. He lets you touch him but he refuses to meet your gaze.

“We have to try. Muriel, I don’t want to lose you again.”

It’s been so long since you’ve been together and so many feelings flood over you when you hold his hand. 

You continue, “please. We can’t just let Lucio win. He can’t keep us apart.”

Finally, his eyes meet yours. They’re full of doubt but you can tell he wants to believe. You place your hand on his cheek - his eyes close but his eyebrows remain furrowed. Even if he thinks it's a bad idea, being able to feel you again is heavenly.

He asks, “you really think we can fight this?”

A smile lights up your face.

“We can get through anything.”

Muriel sighs and seems to relax into your touch.

Eventually, you withdraw your hand. You don’t want to push him too much, this is probably even more overwhelming for him than it is for you. It’s difficult when all you want to do is wrap your arms around him, bury your face into his neck and breathe in his earthy scent. But you control yourself.

You step away from him to sit down by the fire and pat the space next to you.

“Come on, I’m sure we both have a lot to catch up on.”


	2. Chapter 2

Conversation is slow at first but it begins to build. You tell him how about how Asra had taken you in as his apprentice. You described your life at the shop and the friends you’d made. He tells you about how he decided to run away once he met Inanna and how he’s lived out his life alone in his hut.

The sun sinks below the horizon and the sky begins to turn a dark shade of blue.

“I don’t want to go.”

Muriel stares at the wall – deep in thought.

“Then stay. For tonight. We’ll figure out a plan in the morning,” he replies – voice strained. 

“Thank you.”

He refuses to let you sleep anywhere but his bed while he takes the floor. Not wanting to argue all night, you graciously accept.

The furs are extremely comfortable as you slide into them and Muriel adds a few extra logs onto the fire. In the silence, it’s difficult to stop thinking. You can’t help but buzz with excitement and disbelief to be able to see Muriel again. Yet you can’t help but dread falling asleep, not wanting to forget and feeling afraid that you always will.

You’re not sure when or how but somehow, after a while, you manage to drift off into a light sleep.

You’re woken by a growl. You sit up and your sleep addled brain tries to make sense of things. The growl didn’t come from the wolf but a man who’s tossing on the floor in a fitful sleep.

You’ve forgotten the events of yesterday but, for some reason, that’s not important to you. What’s important is the man who seems to be having an awful nightmare. You go to his side.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re just having a nightmare.” You soothe – stroking his hair.

He thrashes against your touch before slowly relaxing into it. Eventually, he opens his eyes. He looks just as confused as you did waking up. He stares at you for a long while and you don’t quite know what to say or even what to think.

He asks, “you remember me?”

You blink a few times. You were meant to remember him?

“No, sorry.”

He sits up and pulls away. He turns so you can’t see his face but you were able to catch a glimpse of the pain.

“I’m sorry, should I know you?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Who are you?”

His body visibly sags.

“My name’s Muriel.”

That name. That voice. It’s enough to send a shockwave of recognition through your body.

You tug on his arm to get him to face you. He goes to shrug you off but he catches sight of the tears welling in your eyes. You plunge forward and wrap your arms around him.

You remember your visits to the coliseum. You remember the time your hands accidentally brushed. You remember doubting it was actually an accident. You remember the first time he pulled you tight against himself. You remember realising how much you hated your life working for Lucio and how content you felt in Muriel’s arms. You remember how often you used to smile.

Tears flow freely from your eyes. He shifts to wrap his arms around you and pulls you against his chest. It feels exactly the same as it did back then if not more intense now. He’s so warm and so broad and you never want him to let go.

Without thinking, you shift and speak Muriel’s name – deep and conflicted – against his lips. It’s several seconds into kissing him that you realise what you’ve done.

You pull away quickly, “I’m sorry, was that too much? Was that okay?”

“I- erm- yes.”

“Do you… want me to continue?”

He thinks about it before nodding.

Now hyper aware of yourself, you awkwardly move your face closer to his once again. It gets easier once you close your eyes and your lips find his. It’s slow and gentle at first and your hands gradually move to his arms. You can feel him relax and his large hands snake to your back.

You push yourself harder against him, your kissing growing feverish. Your hands explore every inch of him – wanting to commit it to memory.

He pulls away from you to catch his breath and asks, “was that- was that okay?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Yes, Muriel, that was more than okay,” you speak “I’d like to do more. If you would like that too?”

“More?” It takes him a while to realise what you mean “Oh. Well, I would like that if you would like that.”

This man is too sweet, too perfect for you to ever forget again.

You reply – trying not to giggle at how adorable he is, “yes, I would definitely like that.”

Before he can reply, you’re back on his lips, exploring how your mouths fit together and revelling in the taste of him. His hands are quick to return to your back. His movements are more sure of themselves this time - confident in where they want to travel. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck for leverage to kiss you harder.

You move away to pull your shirt off over your head. Once the fabric is discarded to the floor, you notice how Muriel is struggling to make eye contact.

“It’s okay. You can look.”

Slowly, his eyes roam over your body. You reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra and let it drop down next to your shirt.

“You can touch too, if you want.”

He tenses but he nods.

You guide his hand towards your breast. He’s tentative at first and you make a soft moan to let him know it’s okay. He begins to massage your breast and you return to kissing him. As he gets lost in the act, he brings his other hand up to touch you.

You reach between yourselves to undo his trousers. He hesitates before lifting his hips for you to slide them off him. When you settle back down, you can feel Muriel’s hard length against your thigh. It’s bigger than you’d expected. It makes a lot of sense it would be that size but you’re still surprised, you guess you’d never thought about it before.

You lift off him for a moment to discard your own trousers to the floor. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you go back to kissing - overwhelmed by your bare skin.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” you say “We can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

Muriel meets your gaze and you can see his eyes are beginning to murk with lust. He shakes his head.

“No, I like it. I just- it’s a lot. But I don’t want it to stop.”

“Tell me if you change your mind at any point, okay?”

“Yeah.”

It looks like he wants to say more so you remain still and silent until he speaks.

“I- erm. I’m glad you found me. I’m glad you’re back. I didn’t realise… I had- I could feel so many things. It’s so stupid- I should have found you…”

You place your hand on his cheek.

“It’s okay. It’s really okay… And I feel lots of things too.”

You smile reassuringly and he forces a small smile back. Gently, you dive your head back towards his – wanting to show him just how much you feel with a slow tender kiss. His arms tentatively snake around your waist and he pulls you closer so you’re flush against him. Absentmindedly, your hands trail to grasp behind his neck and play with the ends of his hair. The warmth of his body washes over you and you moan into the kiss.

The empty longing you’d felt while apprenticing for Asra makes sense now. You’ve never felt more at home than you do now.

You smile into the kiss before climbing off Muriel. Grabbing hold of his wrist, you drag him up with you. Your smile evolves into a smirk as you pull him towards the bed.

Muriel doesn’t know what to do with himself now he can clearly see your naked form. You sit on the bed and release Muriel’s wrist, leaving him standing there to gawk.

“You’re- you look very… nice.”

You giggle, “thank you, Muriel. You look very nice too.”

Your eyes roll languidly down his form. His body hasn’t changed at all since he was a gladiator. Your eyes make it to his lower half and his hands twitch – wanting to hide himself - but he remains still and lets you watch.

You bite your lip and give his wrist a final tug. He gets the message and you swivel onto the bed as he climbs on top of you. The mattress compresses with his weight.

He’s completely still on top of you. You gently pull on his shoulder for him to go back to kissing you, something you know he’s comfortable with. But his lips are tense against yours, unwilling to open up to your tongue.

“Are you okay?”

He darts away and sits on the edge of the bed. You sit up and keep your distance, scared that you’re taking things too quickly.

“It’s just, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Realisation slowly dawns on you.

“Muriel… Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head.

From being an orphan to a gladiator to a recluse, you guess he would never have had the opportunity to form relationships. Other than with you.

“Would you like me to guide you?”

He replies quietly, “yes please.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Awkwardly, he shifts so he’s facing you again and he holds out his hand. You pull it over towards your lower half and rest his hand on your underwear. He intuitively begins to knead you through your pants. You arch up into his hand, wanting more pressure.

“That’s good,” you encourage “Do you want to try with pants off?”

He nods and carefully pulls your pants down your legs. You spread your legs wider to make it easier for him as he comes between them. He leans in close and admires you - fascinated by your anatomy. He slides a hand along the soft skin of your thigh – tracing lazy shapes before running a large finger down your folds.

“This spot up here’s good,” you explain - pointing towards your clit.

He nods and grazes his thumb over your mound. His calloused digit presses lightly against you. You close your eyes to let the sensation wash over you as you lean back on your elbows.

Without eyes watching him, he grows a little more confident and brings his other hand to explore between your folds as his other thumb continues on your clit. His circles begin to grow harder, causing you to moan. After a while, his index finger finds your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks.

You open your eyes. He stares at you with so much love and concern. Dread pools in your heart to think of how easily it would have been to have forgotten him forever, to never have crossed paths like you did. No. A timeline like that doesn’t exist. No matter what, you know you always would have found each other.

“Please.”

He slides a thick finger inside of you. You take a sharp breath. You weren’t expecting to feel that much pleasure from one finger. He thrusts his finger into you at a slow and careful speed. His circles on your clit have kept a painfully perfect rhythm - never changing speed. For someone who’s not done this before, he’s absolutely incredible.

He slides a second finger in. Two of his wide fingers are enough to make you feel a stretch and you wonder how you’re going to accommodate his length later.

He gives an experimental curl of his fingers. You hadn’t expected him to find that sweet spot inside of you and your hips twitch as you cry out.

He freezes, “was that not okay?”

“It’s really good, Muriel. You’re really good.”

“Oh… Okay.”

He starts up again – starting even slower than before until he gradually begins to increase the speed. Your hips buck into his fingers, wanting more of him. He gets the message and buries his fingers knuckle deep into you on the next thrust. Your mind is swimming with pleasure and you cannot understand how someone can possibly be this good.

He keeps a teasingly slow pace on your clit as his fingers continue to dive deep into you. Occasionally, he brushes your g-spot and your hands fist into the bed sheets every time. A coil begins to wind within you and your legs start to tense.

“Muriel, stop, I-I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls his fingers out, leaving you tingling, oversensitive and suddenly extremely empty. Right now, you would be more than willing to get on your knees and beg for him to finish the job.

“Are you ready?” You ask him breathlessly.

He sits back, “I- erm, yes- but I’m scared to… I’m scared I’m going to hurt you.”

A warm smile spreads across your face. You lean your hand against his cheek.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You’re so… small,” He looks at you like you’re a piece of fine China. “Are you sure?”

“Just go slow, okay?”

He nods - not completely convinced but willing to give it a go. You lie back on the bed and watch him pull his underwear down. Welp. His length was even bigger than you’d imagined from when you’d felt it against you.

He climbs back on top of you and positions himself at your entrance. He slides in slowly. His girth is already stretching you wide and he’s only entered you half way. He stops to allow you time to adjust.

His eyes are closed. It doesn’t seem to be because he’s nervous. He looks like he’s using all his willpower to hold himself back.

He tentatively begins to thrust into you, keeping it slow and shallow.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, you can do more.”

He’s a little bit reluctant but he thrusts deeper into you. Any pain you’d felt has subsided and, already, the pleasure is washing over you in waves. It feels so intense being with him, feeling his heat radiate from above you and his arms encasing you. You grab onto one of his wrists by the side of your head – needing the physical contact to ride out the intensity of your pleasure.

You feel your orgasm building, you must have carried over the pleasure from earlier. Him remaining at his slow pace is keeping you from tipping over the edge but you’re painfully close. But you want to hold on for as long as possible. You want to savour every moment of this as pleasure hits you again and again with each teasing thrust. 

He begins to lose himself a little and his thrusts speed up. It’s so overwhelming and you let out groan after groan.

He lowers himself onto his elbows as he thrusts deeper into you. You cry out loudly. You’ve never felt so full before.

“Ah fuck, Muriel.”

His head is buried in your neck, letting out hot and heavy grunts against your sensitive skin. It’s so difficult to stave off your orgasm but you’re not ready for it to end.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him tight, holding on for dear life. His thrusts only increase in desperation - slamming into you and filling the room with the sound of skin on skin.

You moan his name and a string of various obscenities. You wrap your shaking legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you so he fills you to the hilt.

It’s absolutely euphoric. Years of being spent away from Muriel and now you were finally together again, as it should have been, as it will always be.

His thrusts grow maddened and he growls your name into your ear. It sends you over the edge. You cry out as searing white fills your vision. Your whole body twitches as your legs clamp around him.

Unrelenting, he pounds into you while you ride out your orgasm and he chases his. He grunts loudly as you feel his seed spill into you. There are a few more sloppy thrusts and then his motions come to a stop.

“W-was that okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Muriel, that was the most incredible experience of my whole life.”

“Me too.”

There’s a comfortable silence as he looks at you with so much love brimming in his eyes and you can only assume you look the same.

In one swift movement, he turns you both around so he’s lying on the bed and you’re against his chest. His arms fold around you and you practically melt into him.

You start to feel sleepy and you panic when you realise you’ll forget him in the morning. You pull away from him.

“I’m going to fall asleep.”

He stares at you – not quite understanding.

You explain, “I don’t want to forget you again.”

Muriel thinks it over for a moment and then tugs you back down on top of him.

“Well I don’t want to stop holding you. You can’t stay awake forever. We’ll go to Asra in the morning. We’ll find a way,” he says – echoing your earlier conviction.

You try to relax, which isn’t particularly difficult considering he’s a giant sized teddy bear.

“Okay,” you reply.

You press your head against his chest and listen to the steady drum of his heart. It’s a beat you’re determined to remember.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” you promise.


End file.
